Comfort and Joy

And by that, I mean that I've entered a semi-blissful state of 'fake it till you make it.'

I finally got around to buying ornaments for the Christmas tree. I haven't put them on the tree yet, but purchasing them is a huge step for someone who just realized that there is little more than a week left until Christmas.

I packed up all the cloth diapers, along with the two pouch slings and other various things I found ridiculously cheap when I thought it would be so easy to have a baby. They're all stuffed into a plastic tote, no longer taunting me.

I cleared out all the shopping websites from my bookmarks on my phone. I gave away a ton of scrapbooking paper, and I'm starting to go through all my beads, to see how much of that can go away, too.

At this rate, by Christmas I'll be able to unveil my very own craft space, and distract myself for months to come. Because that's what I really need. A distraction.

I hate that this bothers me so much. Honestly, though... I feel kind of cheated. I've made good decisions. At eighteen, I met this amazing person who I love, who is amazing and for whatever insane reason has chosen to love me back. He's good to me, he's responsible, and calm, and sweet...

So that's what gets me. Before BoyWonder, I was attracted to douchebags. I don't know why--probably because that's what was around. And I am the most indecisive person alive. I have changed my major five times. Every week I think of something new I want to do with my life. But the ONE thing I've never wavered on seems to be becoming increasingly less likely.

Thank you, Universe.

I shouldn't even be surprised.

For now, I'm faking it. I'll work a bullshit late shift tonight, wake up tomorrow and decorate the tree. I'll keep chipping away at this disaster area of a spare bedroom, and then I'll pack up my clay and all involved tools and head to my friend's house to play.

And by the time I'm starting to really feel like it's Christmas, it will be January. But I'm okay with that.